


Fear My Mom For Her Strength Rivals Thor's

by HK44



Series: Brokes, Pennsylvania [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Humor, Pranks, Trans Male Character, anna is the alpha dog and everyone must know it, but i still consider the story to be for general audiences, charles is a failure, dominance assertion gone wrong, prompt, switch sugar with salt prank, there is one swear word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HK44/pseuds/HK44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my dad, the same guy who threw his wallet at a guy he thought was robbing him and then promptly burst into tears when he realized he was wrong. So his idea for dominance assertion wasn't, it wasn't, well, it was just plain stupid. Of course, you know, most male-identifying people in general are stupid, so score for him, I guess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear My Mom For Her Strength Rivals Thor's

**Author's Note:**

> "imagine person a of your otp switching the sugar out with salt before person b is awake. person b makes their coffee before so much as glancing in person a’s general direction, as usual, and dumps a butt load of “sugar” into their coffee before drinking it. person a is fighting back laughter and tears until they realize person b is giving them a death glare while they gulp down their entire 16 oz. cup of salty coffee without skipping a beat because they are the alpha and what is weakness" was the prompt I read on Tumblr so I wrote a little drabble about Alex's parents to it because why not?
> 
> The bolded text is a person (me, I guess) who Alex is telling the story to.

**Your dad seems like a fun guy. Talk about him.**

Sure, okay, um, my dad is not like a lot of other dads. Or a lot of other dads _on TV_ rather, because there are tons of dads like my dad in Brokes. You know, dads who used to have breasts and still have vaginas, who cry at movies and eat all the popcorn four minutes in. My dad is a lot like the dads whose significant others have to beat the living shit out roaches because they're too busy hiding on top of the fridge with their equally terrified child.

**You hid on top of the fridge because of a roach?**

Yes. And, in my defense, it was a massive roach.

**I get about five massive roaches in my house every month, you baby.**

Hey!

**Anyway, your dad?**

Bu- wha- _fine._

So when I was eight or nine, my dad tried to prove he was _a man_. Every so often the transphobic mentality from his life outside of Brokes would kick in and my dad would go off in search of manliness for about five days before he'd give up and my mom would roll her eyes, give him a speech about how he's a man in his own right, regardless of what people outside of Brokes or the 5% might say and etc, etc, etc.

This time he decided that to be a "real" man, he needed to become the leader, the chief, the head honcho of our household. My mom tolerated his sudden decisions and choices because she knew in about a week he'd give up and they'd go back to compromising like normal.

Granted, her patience and general amusement of his antics meant that _I_ had to sit through a three hour, basically one sided conversation with my dad over the fact that Kali is the leader of my friends (with Nick as second-in-command, of course) and how I had to assert my manliness and true right to complete power over my friends, and that Kali, as a _female_ , was not worthy of such a high position in our friendship.

It was an incredibly sexist conversation and if I remember correctly my mom had to drag me out the door so I couldn't throw what was left of my breakfast at him.

Three weeks went by and my dad had yet to give up on his manliness search and my mom was beginning to grow aggravated. So she tried to subtly edge him into relaxing on his quest.

It didn't work.

And my dad ended up thinking she wanted him to go back to being female (which she did not, thus proving that my mom really _is_ a horrible lesbian) and decided to, once and for all, assert his dominance over my mom.

Remember that this is my dad who threw his wallet at a guy he thought was robbing him and then promptly burst into tears when he realized he was wrong. So his idea for dominance assertion wasn't, it wasn't, well, it was just plain stupid. Of course, you know, most male-identifying people in general are stupid, so score for him.

Like I said, I was eight or nine, probably nine, and I came into the kitchen to see my dad dumping was left over in our sugar container into the trash and pouring some salt into it instead.

I stared. "Dad-"

He jerked and pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh." He gestured me over and I came.

"What are you doing?"

"Switching the sugar and salt," he muttered, clicking shut the salt bottle and putting both containers away.

I blinked a few times and wondered if I was still dreaming. "Why?"

"Because I've been drinking salted coffee for the last four weeks and when your mother crumbles under the taste, I will reign supreme," he hissed. Then he laughed maniacally for three minutes without pausing or taking a breath.

Part of me wished I'd been adopted by saner people. "Okay," I said slowly, strolling backwards to the fridge. "I'm gonna make some eggs. You just-" I waved at his general area. "-stay over there."

"Of course," he muttered, turning the coffee maker on. "Where would I go? Your mother must crumble into defeat."

He continued to mumble to himself, staring at the coffee maker like an insane man while I made scrambled eggs, keeping one eye on him and one eye on my food.

To the overwhelming scent of coffee, my mother woke up and stumbled sleepily out of bed. Her mane of hair seemed even bushier than normal and it brushed over the top of my head when she swept down to kiss my cheek. She had had the week off of work and slept in late, which explained her desire to actually communicate with us instead of staring at me through bleary eyes and muttering her need for food under her breath.

It was a nice change from her regular routine and part of me wanted to babble my dad's plans to keep her like that but, I dunno, I held back. The fact that my dad went through four weeks of drinking salted coffee, especially when he doesn't like coffee, just to do this was strangely interesting and my curiosity of what was going to happen beat over my rationality. I handed her a plate of scrambled eggs and toast instead.

"Morning sweetie." She accepted a plate of eggs and was just getting ready to sit down when my dad chirped from beside the coffee maker. "Coffee, Anna?"

I pushed open a window and made myself a plate while she grinned and pushed herself off the chair, taking a step and landing at the coffee maker. My dad made to go over to the table, smirking widely and pretended to be turning on the flame under our offerings plate.

She pulled out her 20oz travel mug and poured coffee almost up to the brim, dripping in a sliver of cream and pulling out the sugar container. My dad rip the table cloth. I couldn't stop tapping my finger against my thigh, heart beating fast. She dumped in the rest of the "sugar" since there wasn't a lot of it left - but still enough that the taste would probably induce vomiting - and pulled out a extra bag of sugar. My dad froze but she didn't pour any of it into her coffee, just refilling the sugar container and putting it away.

She stirred the coffee carefully. The table cloth ripped a little more. I swatted my dad's hand. He stopped pulling on it.

My mom lifted the cup to her mouth and in an instant you could see the taste hitting her hard. Her eyes bugged out and my dad grinned wide, a laugh escaping from his mouth. I opened my mouth to deny knowledge of anything but stopped short when she turned to us, cup still pressed to her mouth, _and drank the whole damn thing_.

My dad's smile fell immediately. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly. I stared at my mom in horror.

She dropped the cup into the sink and stared at my dad, eyes hard. "Charles, I love you. But you have got to stop acting like a child. Now grow the fuck up and kiss your wife."

And he did, like a good husband, and we all sat down and ate to the sound of The Little Einsteins in the background. When breakfast was over and my mom disappeared to go take a shower, my dad dropped his head to the table and sighed heavily.

"Dad?"

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have tried, Alex." He grabbed my hand, gazing remorsefully in the short distance outside our window. "She's just too strong." He grabbed my chubby nine-or-eight year old face. " _Fear her_."

Then he left and I spent the next hour and half with Jackson, Kali and Nick trying to come up with ways to get un-adopted because my parents are really fucking weird.


End file.
